


hold on to me as you go

by helvetica_upstart



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Episode: s06e13 Start Spreading the News, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, Patrick has A Lot of feelings about the cottage, a small amount of post-bbq angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 07:55:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23467990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helvetica_upstart/pseuds/helvetica_upstart
Summary: The thing is, sometimes Patrick gets so caught up in paying attention to David that he forgets how good David is at paying attention to him, too.Which is how he’s taken by surprise when David bolts upright in bed, turns on the lamp, and says, “Patrick, the fourth time we drove by the house was before you proposed.”Whoops.a 4+1 (ish) about Patrick and David at the cottage
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 71
Kudos: 911





	hold on to me as you go

**Author's Note:**

  * For [storieswelove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/storieswelove/gifts).



> shoutout to @storieswelove for their incredible ability to interpret what I'm trying to say, both in betaing and also in receiving my incoherent live-texts (6x13 was a doozy)

The thing is, sometimes Patrick gets so caught up in paying attention to David that he forgets how good David is at paying attention to him, too. 

Which is how he’s taken by surprise when David bolts upright in bed, turns on the lamp, and says, “Patrick, the fourth time we drove by the house was before you proposed.” 

Whoops. 

**I.**

They shouldn’t be in Patrick’s car right now, driving to Elm Glen on David’s third-hand intel that there _might_ be an apothecary cabinet at a flea market. There are about two hundred other things they need to do before the store opens, according to Patrick’s GANTT chart.

Patrick had really, really meant to say no. He had. But when he saw the excited gleam in David’s eyes, _no_ came out as _I’ll grab us breakfast; when should I pick you up?_

“Oh,” David sighs, not a dissimilar sigh to the one he made when Patrick handed him a warm donut. “Look at that cottage. It’s beautiful.” 

Patrick turns so quickly he’s surprised he doesn’t get a crick in his neck, but the cottage has already disappeared from view.

It’s the first time he’s heard David call anything but their store beautiful.

He turns the car around. 

“What are you— oh!” David’s bites down a disbelieving smile. Patrick kind of can’t believe he’s doing this either. 

They pass by again, slowly enough that Patrick can take it in. The cottage is… cute. Colorful, with bright cobblestone and red windowsills and a yard full of trees in bloom. The shape reminded Patrick of a dollhouse, or the gingerbread houses he made with his family every Christmas.

He wants to see it through David’s eyes. He teases, “Hmm, it’s fine.”

“Fine?” This is accompanied by a full-body scoff that David’s seatbelt barely manages to contain. “Patrick. It looks like Rosehill Cottage.”

“Like what?”

“Kate Winslet’s house in _The Holiday_! _”_

“Ah.” He has no idea what David is talking about. 

“Oh my _God_ , it’s a classic, you really haven’t seen it?”

“I have not seen _The Holiday,_ ” Patrick confirms, desperately hoping it prompts an _oh, we’ve got to fix that, come over tonight_ from David. Patrick has fished more the last couple weeks with David than all his summers by the lake combined.

Really, any sign from David would be great. Patrick has given David lots of signs — he framed a license, quit his day job, and even invited David over for a sleepover. Patrick was about fifty-fifty on whether David was disinterested or totally oblivious.

“Imagine,” David says, “you run away from your life to that cottage, have a perfect few weeks, and meet this guy. And then, when it’s time to leave…”

“Okay,” Patrick says. It’s not hard to imagine. He sneaks a glance at David.

“He takes your hands and says, ‘I finally know what I want, and that in itself, is a miracle. And what I want is you.’”

It’s suddenly a little harder to breathe.

It’s just a movie quote. Patrick knows it’s a movie quote. David’s not _really_ saying it to him. The problem is, his heart doesn’t seem to have gotten the memo. The hope welling in his chest feels like pure elation. He tries and fails to tamp it down. 

Because that miracle— that’s how Patrick feels about David. From the moment he met David, Patrick knew that he wanted him with a certainty that he’d never felt before. Even if he never gets to be anything besides David’s business partner, at least he finally knows.

But that those words mean something to David too? Patrick thought his crush was already at the outer limits of _humanly possible_ , but it turns out he’s now moved into a terrifying new alien dimension.

He’d really, really like to be more than David’s business partner. 

He’d really, really like to buy that cottage and grow old in it together. 

Jesus. He needs to reign it in. 

“Wow,” he manages.

“Right?” David’s eyes are intent on his face. Then, he coughs and looks away. “And, you know, imagine it’s Jude Law saying it in a British accent. If you were, you know, into that… that kind of thing.” 

“But—” Patrick’s about to lose his mind. “But does she stay?”

“I’m not going to spoil the movie, Patrick!”

“But I want to know what happens!” 

David’s smiling down at his hands, which are fidgeting and twisting together in his lap. He looks at Patrick out of the corner of his eye as he says, “Then... I guess you’ll just have to watch it.”

Patrick takes a chance. “We could watch it tonight.”

There’s a long pause, during which Patrick forgets to breathe, before David says, “Yes! I mean, sure, that could be— fun.” 

“Great. All we have to do is bring in the cabinet then.”

“The cabinet… right,” David says, strained. Then he clears his throat and his voice gets more normal. “Except— I really cannot handle the romantic English countryside on an empty stomach, so, what toppings do you want on your pizza?”

Patrick’s pretty sure this isn’t real, even as he listens to David call the one pizza place in Elmdale that delivers. He’ll have to beg Ray— bribe Ray, probably— to leave them alone long enough to watch the movie. Ray loves rom-coms. Actually, there’s no way in hell Ray will leave them alone; this was a terrible idea.

He may get to kiss David, though. So. Not the _worst_ idea he’s ever had.

Into the phone, David says, “Yes, to Rose Apothecary. The store across from the Cafe? No, that’s— the General Store went out of business. It’s Rose Apothecary now. Or, it will be next week. Yes, I’m sure! Okay, can you deliver there or not?”

Well.

Nevermind, then. Not a date.

Disinterested, or totally oblivious?

Getting the cabinet into the store is a whole process. David won’t let Patrick help take out the drawers and lay them out where they won’t get scratched— something about not having the qualifications of wig handling, whatever that means— and Patrick thinks it might be a ploy to get out of lifting the heavy cabinet. David’s been very clear about his stance on physical labor. 

Patrick’s still doing risk calculations (on the one hand, it might impress David if he could lift it himself, but on the other hand, it would _not_ impress David if he dropped it and scratched their floors) when David calls him over. 

David’s already bending at the knees, ready to lift.

“Right,” Patrick says, bending, trying to hide how flustered he feels. They lift on three. 

It’s easy, to maneuver it together, to get it against the wall exactly where David wants it. Like, _shockingly_ easy. Patrick is dying to see David’s arms under that sweater. 

While David puts the shelves back in, Patrick notices the pizza guy, looking lost and confused outside the Cafe. He gets the pizza, and by the time he’s back, David’s done with the shelves and on his laptop.

Patrick’s GANTT chart is open on the screen. David clicks on the _very urgent_ column, brows furrowing in concentration. “Which of these can we do in the next two hours and eighteen minutes?”

Patrick can’t stop grinning as he runs through the options.

They spend the runtime of _The Holiday_ putting price stickers on cuticle creams and hand lotions. Every so often, David nudges him to make sure he’s paying close enough attention. 

He is. It’s the first time Patrick’s ever paid close attention to a rom-com, really. Before now, he’d always sympathized more with the dull boyfriends who got dumped in the third act for not being romantic, for not making grand gestures, for not taking life up-ending risks on the off-chance of finding true love. Now… he kinda gets it. 

David was right. It was a beautiful cottage. 

**II.**

Patrick wakes up at the Sherwood Motel, warm from the sunshine slotting through the windows and from the way his boyfriend was draped over him. _Boyfriend._

Yesterday, David called Patrick his boyfriend.

“Good morning,” Patrick says. David’s eyelashes flutter, and he makes a sleepy noise as he nuzzles into Patrick’s chest. Patrick is so full of joy he can feel it spilling out around the edges. “Come on, wake up, sunshine.”

“Why?” David groans; a valid counterargument. 

Patrick gets under the covers and persuades him. 

So they end up running late to open the store, but it’s hard to care. Getting to spend the night with David is so rare. If he’d known the night before that David booked a room so Alexis could have theirs for a girl’s night— well, Patrick would have still spent the day ganging up on him with Stevie, but. Maybe he would have been a little more time-efficient about it. 

David’s still sleep-rumpled as they drive back to Schitt’s Creek. His toiletries bag lays unopened on his lap, ignored in favor of resting his eyes and playing with Patrick’s hand.

“Look!” Patrick squeezes David’s thigh. “It’s the cottage.”

“Kate Winslet’s cottage,” David says, so, so happily. “You remembered.”

“How could I forget? We’ve seen _The Holiday_ twice in three months.”

They’ve watched a lot of rom-coms together, but _The Holiday_ is still Patrick’s favorite. He was the one who suggested they watch it a second time. He knew it would feel different now that they were dating, to watch David root for Cameron Diaz to stay in the borrowed cottage, to pick the small town, to fall in love.

“Okay, but basically once? Watching a rom-com on a _date_ is different."

“Well, whose fault is that?” Patrick grins at David, who looks confused. “David. It was totally supposed to be a date the first time too. Until you called the pizza to the store.”

“You— what?”

“Should I have invited Stevie along too?” Patrick teases, and David groans.

It’s easy to imagine living in the cottage. Walking up the stone path each night as he came home. Drinking tea each morning in the east-facing window. Waking up next to David, like he’d gotten to that morning. 

Patrick’s heart pangs as he watches the cottage disappear in his driver’s side mirror. 

All too quickly, they’re in front of the Schitt’s Creek Motel. As David gets out, Patrick calls after him, “Meet me at the store soon!”

“Yeah! I’ll bring lunch!”

“That’s not—” David’s already inside. Patrick sighs as he puts the car in reverse. “That’s not soon.”

* * *

Patrick types out, **I saw the cottage and thought of you.**

He’d driven past it on his way to Elm Glen to get David a silver bracelet he saw at a jewelry store months ago. It was going to be a Christmas present, but that doesn’t matter. He wants David to see it, to see how beautifully it goes with his rings, and realize. 

Patrick is here. 

_My truth is that I am damaged goods,_ David said. He tries to be better than all the people in David’s past who made him feel that way. He tries to show David that he cares about getting the details right, that he’s paying attention. He’s always been paying attention, even before they got together, even before he’d known _why_ he was doing it.

Coffee, made just right. A cookie. A bracelet that matches his rings. 

_You stood in front of me and told me to trust people._

It’s possible that David won’t forgive him. Patrick leans into the thought, like pressing on a bruise. It’s possible Patrick won’t ever get to tell David that he loves him, now that he’s finally realized that love is what the big, wild feeling in his chest is. It’s possible he won’t get to grow old with David in a place like that cottage.

It’s possible Patrick will be watching from behind the register as David finds that with someone else.

**I saw the cottage and thought of you.**

Patrick lets out a shuddery breath and deletes the text.

**III.**

David has a whole marketing scheme sketched out for Single’s Week. It involves a lot of upfront costs staked on new products, aka _the business side of things,_ which is why Patrick insisted on accompanying him to the Miller farm.

But standing there, watching David rub organic warming lube between his thumb and forefinger as he haggles a bulk discount, Patrick realizes that may have been a mistake. He has to excuse himself, and ends up wandering outside. It’s fine. If they end up with more lube than they could move, Patrick is more than willing to sell it to himself at-cost.

Across the street from the farm is the cottage. 

Patrick loses some time, staring at it. He doesn’t know how long passes until David is there, coming up behind him and hooking his chin over Patrick’s shoulder. Patrick leans into him until they’re cheek to cheek. 

Back when Patrick was struggling with whether to leave Rachel, there was a quote he thought about a lot. _Love does not consist in gazing at each other, but looking outward together in the same direction._ He and Rachel had never managed to find that same direction. 

He’s so, so in love with David. It’s probably a matter of days, not weeks, until he can’t contain it anymore. 

After a few minutes, Gretchen calls them back over and they reluctantly break apart. 

It takes both of them to lift the crate of lube. They struggle with finding the right angle to fit it into the trunk. David grunts, “Come on, Patrick, put it in.”

Patrick laughs so hard he nearly drops his side of the crate.

Finally, they get it loaded. Even with the lube-related interruption, Patrick feels warm and romantic as they drive back to town. 

“Do you think any Singles will find love next week?”

“I think they’ll find organic personal lubricants and massage oils at our one-stop-shop retail environment,” David says briskly. Then he softens. “Yeah. Maybe someone will. If they’re lucky. What do you think?”

“I think so. I hope it’s Ray.” 

“Oh my God, yes,” David says, because Ray broke up with his boyfriend last month and in his loneliness, they’ve lost a lot of ground on _knocking before entering._ “I’ll talk to Alexis and—”

David doesn’t finish his thought. Patrick reaches over to squeeze his knee. “Maybe she’ll get lucky next week too.”

“Ew! What?” David’s wrists jump to his chest in a very familiar gesture. Patrick tries not to laugh. 

“No— I meant, lucky like she’ll find someone!”

“Ugh.”

Patrick barely manages to contain an _I love you._ They make it to Ray’s driveway before he trusts himself to speak. 

“You know, Single’s Week is exactly the type of thing I’d go to when Rachel and I were on breaks. I always felt like I had to be trying something, since I had no idea what would work. No idea what I wanted.”

David rubs Patrick’s thigh, reassuring. “Yeah?”

“I would have gone to Single’s Week and found you, if I hadn’t already. Then I would have known.”

David leans across the gearshift to rub Patrick’s cheekbone with his nose. He promises lowly, “I would have found you too.”

“David?”

“Mmm?”

Patrick turns toward him, their lips nearly brushing. In his best British accent, he says, “I finally know what I want, and that in itself, is a miracle.” 

David lets out an actual squeak. Then he yanks Patrick into a kiss. “Okay, I know you’re making fun of me, but that one hundred percent worked. Um, is Ray home?”

“No, he is not!” They both race out of the car. He fumbles with the door key as David starts to kiss his neck. Patrick says, in his real voice instead of an attempt at Jude Law’s this time, “I want you.”

They kiss outside the front door for another long minute, David’s arms around his shoulders, Patrick’s arms around David’s waist. Until David breaks it. “Okay, so that’s not actually the line—”

“Come on, David,” Patrick laughs, and pulls him into the house.

**IV.**

It’s their first date night in a long time, and Patrick’s not ready for it to be over. They’ve gotten in the habit of staying in with pizza— for all that David calls himself high maintenance, he’s really, _really_ not— and it feels amazing to be dressed up with David under the twinkling outdoor lights of Elm Glen’s nicest restaurant. 

David doesn’t seem ready for it to be over either. He turns Patrick to press him up against the car, one hand interlaced with Patrick’s and the other on his hip. It’s so graceful that for a moment, Patrick thinks they’re going to dance. Instead, David brushes the gentlest kiss against Patrick’s lips. ‘Thank you for tonight.”

 _Marry me,_ Patrick thinks wildly, not for the first time today. He thought it in his apartment, watching David frown in concentration as he put on cufflinks. Again, on the drive over, as David went on his fifth rant about Alexis breaking their sink and killing his Tamagotchis. Then again at the restaurant, while David agonized over his dessert order until Patrick told him to just order both. 

He deepens the kiss.

They take the long way home, and Patrick doesn’t realize what road they’re on until they see the cottage. 

“Look at the stars out here—” David sighs, like clockwork. Patrick pulls over. “Um, is everything okay?”

“Yeah.” Patrick grins at David as he gets out of the car. “Come on, don’t you wanna see the back?”

David protests even as he follows, clutching at Patrick’s shoulders. “Um, excuse me, who are you and what have you done with my—” 

“Shh, be sneaky with me,” Patrick says in a loud whisper. He drops into a crouch like they’re not obviously crossing an open field. David’s wheezing laughter just gets louder, so Patrick shushes him again, barely holding it together. 

They both fall silent as they reach the fence enclosing the cottage’s backyard.

It’s a sprawling backyard, overlooked by a wraparound porch with a swing. Through the window, Patrick can see the white cabinets of a kitchen. It reminds him of being a teenager, mowing the lawn at dusk while his parents cooked dinner, and then setting the table for them after his shower. That’s how Patrick learned about love, growing up with all of them taking care of a home and taking care of each other. 

Patrick wants that with David, more than he’s ever wanted anything in his life. It feels so close. He can picture it; can picture them, here.

His throat clicks as he swallows. David wraps his arms around him. They sway together for a few minutes, and it feels like…

Well.

It feels like David can picture it too.

Patrick thinks, _Marry me, marry me, marry me._

* * *

“Sucking up to the in-laws already?” Stevie teases, when Patrick immediately offers to pick up some set pieces from the Miller farm for Moira.

In-laws.

He can’t tamp down his grin fast enough to keep Stevie from gagging.

If he’s going to be next door to the cottage anyway… there’s no harm in knocking. Just to introduce himself. Just to leave his number, so they have it, if they are ever interested in selling.

* * *

They’re curled up together in the small motel bed, David mumbling drunkenly into Patrick’s neck about radishes, when Patrick’s phone starts to ring. 

“Kiss first!” David insists when Patrick tries to disentangle himself enough to answer it. “Mwah!”

“Mwah!” Patrick repeats, amused, and kisses him. Jesus, he has no idea how David managed to choke down so much fruit wine. His lips taste like drain-cleaner. 

The call goes to voicemail by the time David lets Patrick up. He picks up his phone and listens to it. _“Hi, Patrick? This is Donna calling. If you and your fiance are still interested—”_

The rest of the message is drowned out by the rush of blood to Patrick’s head. He gave them his phone number because it was worth a shot, but he’d never dreamed—

David lets out a honking snore. _That’s my husband,_ he thinks, even though they aren’t married yet. Sure, they have a wedding and some paperwork to go, but Patrick committed to a life with him a long time ago. 

The only thing missing is a home. One that David thinks is beautiful, one that makes him happy, one that he can love uncomplicatedly. 

Patrick steps outside and presses redial.

* * *

It doesn’t matter that New York isn’t the place Patrick wants to be.

He loves David.

That is enough.

* * *

That will have to be enough.

* * *

**V.**

The moment he takes off the blindfold and sees where they are, his heart drops. He leans into David’s hand on his shoulder. David, who he’s building a life with, even if he’s not doing it here. “You do know that I’ve already seen this house, right?”

It doesn’t sink in, what David did, what David was giving him, until David says, “I don’t want to be anywhere you don’t want to be.”

An offer. 

David put in an offer on the cottage.

“David,” he says, voice cracking, “I promise I will make you so happy here.” 

“You fucking better,” David teases, pulling Patrick into a kiss, and he knows David is really saying _you do._

Their first kiss in their new home. Patrick smiles against David’s lips. He can’t wait to kiss David here thousands of times, all of his _good mornings_ and _good nights_ and _welcome homes_ and _I love yous._ For the rest of their lives.

The thing is, sometimes Patrick gets so caught up in being impossibly, ridiculously in love with David that he forgets that’s how David loves him too. 

He can’t believe David put in an offer on the cottage.

Like… _really_ can't believe.

“Wait, so when you said you put an offer in, what exactly did you—”

“Um,” David’s voice pitches up. “I don’t really know? You might wanna--”

“—yeah, I’m gonna—”

“Call the people!”

“Yeah, I’m definitely gonna, gonna look at that offer.”

* * *

David bolts upright in bed, turns on the lamp, and says, “Patrick, the fourth time we drove by the house was before you proposed.”

Whoops.

“David,” Patrick says, “I was always picturing you and me in that house. Even after the _first_ time we drove by.”

He clicks off the lamp and pulls David back into his arms. David’s breathing evens back out as Patrick rubs his knuckles along David’s side. He can’t help but grin at their darkened ceiling. 

The first time they drove by.

He’ll wait for that one to hit David later. 

  
  


**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] hold on to me as you go](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26738407) by [RevolutionaryJo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RevolutionaryJo/pseuds/RevolutionaryJo)




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